


One Of Us Is Gonna Have To Change

by Laurasauras



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Police, F/M, Jekyll and Hyde, M/M, Rough Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-29 04:02:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20075824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laurasauras/pseuds/Laurasauras
Summary: Strider has been two people for a while now, and he almost gets along with himself. Self-love isn't exactly the goal here, anyway.This fic is currently on hiatus while I focus on finishing other ones.





	One Of Us Is Gonna Have To Change

**Author's Note:**

> Jekyll and Hyde AU, but better than Moffat's version because A) Striders and B) I'm not Moffat. Related more closely to his Jekyll than the original by Robert Louis Stevenson. I'll update tags as I go!

Strider slams his fist onto the desk. Slick watches the movement and then slowly looks back up at Strider’s face. It’s usually a very effective intimidation tactic. Not right now. Strider has that twitch in his jaw that means a change is coming, and it can't come soon enough. 

'He's a bully, Slick!' Strider yells.

Ampora looks far too smug in the seat opposite Slick's desk, and if he was pushed, Slick would have to agree with Strider. But he doesn't like being pushed. Which means he ain’t agreeing with him. 

'_He's_ the bully,' Slick says, toneless in disbelief. 'Thanks for the confession you got out of that Felt goon last week. I'm so glad to have someone of your moral fibre on the team. Get the fuck out of my office.'

Strider turns on his heel, hands gripping his hair for a moment before he turns back, his movements way to sharp and fast. He's ridiculously on edge. _Change, you bastard,_ Slick thinks. It’s been days of this bullshit now, too long without the other guy.

'Bro intimidates criminals,' Strider says. 'Cronus was leering at a girl who was reporting a crime, they're so fucking different I can't even—'

'Right, 'cause you swing both ways but Bro's stuck on the one team, huh?' Cronus drawls. 'He'd leer at the girls too, if they turned his head any.'

Strider snarls and turns to Cronus like he wants to punch him, but freezes halfway there. He tenses, pulse point throbbing, and then relaxes, his whole body drooping. 

It takes a moment before he straightens, and the change is obvious everywhere from the few inches of height to the sudden looseness of the one ring Strider keeps on that Bro has to shift to his thumb. Finally.

''Sup,' Bro says. He looks at his watch and grimaces. 'Fuckhead kept me in a while. 'Sgoin'on?' 

'Boring Strider was about to confess his undying love to me,' Cronus says, leaning forward in his chair. 

Slick sighs and rubs at the lines of the shell of his head. He doesn't get paid enough for this bullshit, nor would he care even if he did. Fucking cops. 

'Far as I'm concerned, the asshole that called this meeting left early. Which means I don't have to listen to you anymore. Leave.'

Bro looks from Slick to Cronus and shrugs. Good enough for him. He slouches from the room, reaching for his phone and headphones. Time to figure out where his alter left him.

'Hey Strider, wait up,' Cronus calls. 

Bro stops and lets Cronus catch up, but he doesn't turn. He doesn't know if he hates Cronus more than D, but it's a fucking close call. 

'Can you make the boring one get off my bulge? He's sniffin' round an' it's throwin' me off my game.'

'Fuck off, Cro, I'm not interested.'

'Betcha y’are though.' Cronus cups his crotch. Bro closes his eyes with a pained expression. 'Ah, come on. Be the fun one. That's the game!'

Bro briefly considers punching Cronus in the throat. D probably wouldn't mind. Cronus'd probably like it, though. Fucking trolls. 

He walks away, heading for the stairwell. Cronus sticks to his heels. Bro breathes out through his nose as he shoves his earphone in and climbs the stairs.

_Do not fucking smoke, I know you always smoke, stop fucking smoking, there are nicotine patches in my desk and in my bedside table and Rose has a stock, like seriously, dude. No smoking._

Bro grins as he opens the door to the roof and wedges the jam against it. He strides to the edge and finds the loose brick _aaaand_ his cigarettes are not there. He throws the brick over his shoulder with impeccable aim and Cronus groans as it lands on his foot. 

_To-do today is confront the captain about Cronus, he's getting seriously skeevy. Drop off dry cleaning, got a date tonight and please just cancel if you show up, she's not your type. Also, don't tell Rose._

'Broooo,' Cronus says. 

Bro ignores him, instead finding the second hole and digging out the pack he had stashed there. Thank fuck. He brushes a cobweb off the cardboard and fishes a smoke out with his teeth. 

'Can I have one?' Cronus asks. 

Well, could give him cancer. That's basically why Bro smokes. Be interesting to see if it affects both their bodies. On the other hand, Bro wants to chain-smoke this pack and then another one before D gets his body back and has to try and go cold turkey again. It’s funny.

'No,' Bro says.

He lights up, and flexes his arm to feel the skin move. Yeah, he's wearing a patch. Don't need that anymore. He untucks his shirt so he can reach up and rip it off. He catches Cronus staring and rolls his eyes. Ignoring the idiot time. Listening to the other idiot time. He hits play on yesterday’s file. He doesn't feel the need to keep up to date with everything D does, but if he's got a fresh case that'd be improved by the application of Bro's fists, that's something to do at least. 

_There's no food in the house. Can't even blame you. I'm so tired. Slick's taking advantage of my generous spirit. Gonna have a word with Droog, he listens to Droog. If you take over, leave that to me, okay? I don't care what you say to Slick, but Droog's good._

There's a break, as if he started recording again later in the same day. It's either listen to D or pay attention to how Cronus is attempting to lean against the stairwell like he thinks models would. Bro chooses D.

_I hate this, I hate him so much, FUCK. No, you're not coming out yet, I have this, don't, okay, I got this. FUCK. Okay. Breathing._

Bro listens to the sound of his lesser half breathing. He pretends like it's more interesting than the curve of Cronus's ass. It’d be real convenient if Cronus were ugly. Like, Bro’s been with some ugly dudes, physical attractiveness isn’t remotely his top priority when it comes to finding a lay, but the fact that Cronus would do just fine if he did something about his garbage personality rests uneasy with Bro. Where does he get off, being a douchebag? It’s not the easier option. If he were just neutral he’d be drowning in dick. Or whatever his prefered genitalia option might be.

_Girl came in the precinct because her apartment got broken into. Cronus was looming over her like a fuckin' lech, I intervened but fuck, man, we can't let this stand. I'm gonna have a word with Slick. Who isn't in his office, of course he isn't. Hey, Deuce, where the fuck's Slick. Yeah, I'll have an appointment, Jesus Christ. No, I'm fine, I'm under control. I'm me, thanks for your concern._

Sarcastic asshole. Bro looks over at Cronus and considers. Slick doesn't care. Of course Slick doesn't care, Slick practically skips for joy every time Bro brings in a perp with a few extra bruises than D might have.

'C'mon, Bro, you're supposed ta be the fun one,' Cronus says, and something already pretty loose in Bro snaps. 

He stalks over to Cronus and grabs him by the scruff of his stupid designer shirt. He pulls him up to his eye level so Cronus has to grab onto Bro's wrists to balance on his toes.

'Where do you get off, callin' me the fun one like I ever gave you an inch more than him. Like I ever gave you any kinda time of day. You think you're so fucking special, gettin' off on low lifes checkin' out your fins like you some kinda powerhouse well what's a fuckin' seadweller doin' in a place like this? If you had a tenth of the strength your bitch ass race was supposed to there wouldn't be enough buckets in Houston to contain the sludge chicks'd be throwing at you an' you're here throwing around your weight with me.'

Bro can feel Cronus's heart beat hammering under his knuckles. His fins are _real_ far back against his head and his pupils are visibly expanding as Bro watches.

'It's not sludge ...' Cronus gasps.

'Like that's remotely the issue. You think if you provoked me proper you'd still be callin' me the fun one? Consider me fuckin' provoked and get down on your knees before I put you there.'

Bro releases Cronus's collar and he'd think he'd gone too rough on him as the troll drops to the ground if it wasn't for the way that he lands perfectly on his knees and looks up at him, waiting for his next instruction.

'You like scaring little girls, don't you?' Bro growls.

Cronus's fins press back almost to his neck. So easy to cow. Fucking mutants.

'You don't make a habit of pissing off people who can take you.'

'I'm a troll, I'm violet,' Cronus whines.

Bro snaps open his belt, which sits a lot looser on his hips than it did D's, and undoes his fly.

'Yeah, the fins and the gills and shit, very flashy. The hair dye was a nice touch when you bothered with that. You wanna go for a beach trip? I bet I could swim faster than you. Let's find out what your colour really is.'

Cronus looks up at Bro, violet eyes shining. His gaze drops the second Bro pulls his cock out. Bro takes a moment to hope that Cronus is about to give him and his "roommate" a horrifically nasty disease, but it's not likely. Someone would have had to have already fucked the poor bastard before Bro came along for him to have anything.

'You bite me and I will turn you into sushi, understand?' Bro says, taking a moment to trace a sharp tooth. 

If he gets hurt too bad, D'll take over, which would be fine with Bro, especially with the present of a fucked up dick and Cronus for him to deal with, but he'd like to get off first. (And Mom's already gonna be pissed Bro smoked.)

Mmm, actually, second cigarette time. Bro grabs the packet from his pocket and lights up again, breathing smoke into Cronus's face. Huh, he's waiting for permission to touch. Bro can work with that.

Bro nods and Cronus takes his cock in hand. He's on his way to a pretty magnificent hard on; Cronus might be a skinny asshole as opposed to the tanks Bro usually likes to fuck into the pavement, but he has the same attitude and it's enough.

Bro holds his finger in Cronus's mouth, keeping it open a safe amount until Cronus pulls his hand away. Bro sees red for a moment, angry in a way that'll end with dead troll and no orgasm if he doesn't get a handle on it fast, but Cronus mutters, 'I know how to suck a dick,' and then sets about proving himself right.

Bro takes his cigarette from his mouth to take in a lungful of fresh air (and D was doing so well) and pulls his phone out to record his newest observation for his roommate.

'Found a fix for murder-rage that isn't Mommy or pain,' Bro drawls. He takes a drag of the cigarette and hopes D will be able to hear him exhale it again. 'It's a dickful of face. Probs work the other way too, you find me a volunteer who's willing to risk me in a mood up in their business and we'll find out.'

Bro drops the phone back into his pocket and gives his hand a better home on Cronus's wavy horns. It's so nice of trolls to come with handles, even if most of them object to oral to begin with and any kind of horn touching on top of that. Cronus doesn't protest though, another point in the mutant category.

He does protest when Bro jerks his hips and tugs on his horn at the same time, just to feel his cock hit the back of Cronus's throat. Well, he gags, and that’s a kind of protest. Bro removes his cock carefully, not wanting him to bite as he coughs. His tears are some kinda purple, maybe those aren't contacts after all.

The second Cronus's gasping reaches an acceptable level, Bro presses his cock back to his lips. Cronus accepts it needily, the strange fucker. This ain't any kind of quadrant formula Bro's seen, and troll romance movies are his secret treat that D can't know about.

'Never had someone like it this much,' Bro muses. 'You're some kinda fucked up, Ampora.'

Cronus moans and takes Bro to that same threshold of his throat before bobbing off again. Bro lets his hand go lax on his horn as he watches, not like Cronus needs the encouragement. After less than 20 seconds of ridiculously enthusiastic moving, Cronus takes Bro into his throat.

Bro raises his eyebrows, impressed, as Cronus backs off only to deep-throat him again. He decides to take over and thrust into Cronus's mouth. Feels better that way.

And then Bro hears footsteps on the stairwell. Cronus attempts to pull away, but Bro holds him firmly by the horn and Cronus stops struggling, whining instead. Figures he'd be an exhibitionist.

Diamonds Droog steps onto the roof, catches sight of Bro and sighs. Bro smiles around his cigarette. He likes Droog. He prefers people that like him best, but Droog's good for a guy who takes D's side too often.

'That suit looks ridiculous on you,' Droog says.

'Maryam won't make me a new one ‘cause I disrespected the last one,' Bro tells him. 'D's not that much fatter than me.'

'Look at your sleeves,' Droog sighs. 'And Ampora makes a terrible accessory.'

'Mmm,' Bro agrees. 'Gimme a sec, Droog, I'm teachin' a lesson.'

Droog pulls a cigarette case out of his inside jacket pocket and wanders to the edge of the roof to light it. He's not the kind of man to rush a guy with business to attend to. Bro appreciates that.

Bro starts to fuck Cronus's face properly, snapping his hips harshly and some more of those pretty tears leak out, tracking violet down to mix with his wet lips. He looks ruined. Good.

'Can you hurry this up, Strider?' Droog says. 'I'm not actually here for the pleasure of seeing your ballsack assault Ampora's chin.'

Cronus moans hopelessly around Bro. Into humiliation? Probably. Bro widens his stance and moves his foot until the toe of his boot is pressed against Cronus's groin (that's definitely a happy bulge) and leans into it. Cronus whines.

'Havin' a conversation, Ampora, keep your noises to yourself.'

'Cute,' Droog says.

'It's this or beat the crap outta him and he'd take that pitch anyway. Why are you here, Droog?'

'Your mother wants a word.'

Bro groans and thrusts into Cronus's mouth hard to vent his feelings. Cronus makes a gagging noise so Bro steps harder on his bulge. 

'Could conversation about my mother wait until after?' Bro asks.

'She asked for you as soon as you woke up. She didn't tell me to hold off if you were getting your dick wet and I didn't think she'd appreciate me asking for clarification.'

Bro sighs. Time to get this over with then. He's proud of his stamina, makes it all the more satisfying knowing that his partner wants him done well before he's ready to let them go, but he can't keep Mommy waiting.

Bro increases the speed of his thrusts and leans into the foot on Cronus's bulge. He watches as Cronus squeezes his eyes closed against the increased pressure and feels him swallow around his dick before a fresh wave of tears leak out. Not sobbing out loud ‘cause Bro told him not to, what a champ.

Bro's cigarette is burnt down to the filter so he drops it and grabs Cronus's other horn as well, pulling and pushing his head to match his hips. Cronus is impressively unresisting as Bro chases his orgasm. When he comes, he pulls back enough that Cronus will have to taste it on his tongue rather than letting it just go down his throat.

Cronus slumps on the floor when Bro releases him and looks up at him needily. The bulge in his pants is writhing.

'Ready to go?' Droog asks.

Bro hesitates. He shouldn't hesitate. But there's only one exit in this building and you have to go past the bull pen to get to it. He presses his shoe back on Cronus's bulge.

'Cronus's gonna jizz in his pants.'

'We don't have time for this, Strider, she always knows.'

'She's not the boss of me!' Bro snaps, pressing down harder on Cronus.

'She's the boss of me,' Droog mutters.

Cronus starts to reach for his pants, but Bro kicks him in the wrist, hard, before stepping on him again. He stares, knowing that attention affects Cronus, and watches as Cronus starts to buck his hips against his foot.

It doesn't take him long to spill, and even after his tears proved to be violet Bro is still surprised that his slurry doesn't come out rust. Well, this proves there’s freaks on every level and Bro isn't opposed to seeing the shade of royalty splashed on his boots.

'Cmon, kid, don't make me drag you outta here,' Droog says. 

Bro grins wickedly at Cronus before following Droog. Even his human nose can smell those pheromones, he looks forward to hearing about what drama this stunt causes.

'You better tell Lalonde that your lateness is your own damn fault.'

'Fuck off,' Bro grumps. 'She won't take it out on you.'

'I'm not in the habit of presuming to predict her actions.'

The Lalonde mansion isn't far from the precinct, but Bro gets more antsy the longer the car takes to get there. Now that he's on his way, he regrets every extra second he took. If she's disappointed in him, he might stab himself with a pen or something just to make D deal with it instead. Not that she'll let him. She's too clever to be fooled by that.

'D wants to talk to you,' Bro says as the car passes through the ostentatious gates and crawls towards the front door, the familiar crunch of gravel grinding against the wheels audible over the radio. Sounds like home no matter how long it's been since he and D moved out.

'What about?' Droog asks.

'Cronus bein' inappropriate, I think.'

Droog snorts with laughter. He keeps saying 'ha' long after his amusement stops being sincere. Bro makes an effort not to pout and fondles his cigarette packet. Droog won't hide it for him. Mom won't let him keep it. He doesn't have a way out and he hates that. Makes him want to make D sort it but D doesn't want him smoking either. It's not fair.

Bro walks into the house first and hands his jacket to the troll manservant without looking at him. Rose Lalonde walks into the entrance and to her son. At the last minute, her amethyst eyes slide from Bro's to Droog's.

'Thank you, Diamonds,' she says, holding her hands out.

Droog accepts her hands, and Bro feels a rush of hot jealousy as his huge, black hands swallow hers. He doesn't like the look of the hard carapace against his mother's soft skin.

'It did my poor worried heart good knowing that even if my son was late, you must have been bringing him to me.'

'You're very welcome, Ms Lalonde. May I take my leave?'

'You may,' Rose says.

She turns her attention to Bro as Droog makes a characteristically smooth exit. Even standing a foot shorter than Bro in heels, she makes him feel small and young.

'You made me wait,' she says.

'Sorry, Mommy,' Bro mumbles.

'What good is sorry. That's useless to me. What am I going to do with you?'

Rose reaches up to stroke Bro's cheek and he stoops a bit so she doesn't have to stretch. He carefully doesn't flinch, even with her long nails shiny in his peripherals.

'I didn't mean to,' Bro says.

Rose's eyes harden and she drags her hand from his cheek. He still doesn't flinch and she doesn't quite scratch him, but the threat's there. If she hurts him, especially when he's on edge, she won't have him anymore. 

She looks down at his shoes, at the pinkish purple slurry stained into the black leather. Bro shifts uncomfortably. 

'You didn't mean to,' she repeats. 'Would you like to correct that statement?'

Bro makes himself as small as he can, which isn't very small. It doesn't help with Rose. Even on his knees he feels like he takes up too much space when she looks at him like this.

'I got carried away,' Bro says.

Rose stares at him coldly for a long minute. Bro doesn't dare speak. And then she points towards the stairs, and Bro doesn't hesitate, he practically scurries away from her harsh gaze.


End file.
